


Gloomy November: Vegard

by YlviscestAnon



Series: Gloomy November [2]
Category: Ylvis
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Suicide, finished series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:30:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlviscestAnon/pseuds/YlviscestAnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vegard Ylvisåker goes to visit his brother, unknowing of the fate the other has suffered. A look at his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gloomy November: Vegard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lundsdotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lundsdotter/gifts).



> Written for Lundsdotter because when someone you admire asks for a sequel, you come up with a sequel, damn it.

Vegard Ylvisåker was an average man, one full of love and hope and mediocre feelings about most things, being a Norwegian. He just had to come to Bård's house though, had to see what what his brother was up to, knowing the other would be there to greet him at the door hopefully and bring him inside.

Vegard was an average man with hopes and a light inside of him, one unmarred by mental illness, so that he could never even imagine or think of what he was going to walk into.

He made it to Bård's home with sketch ideas, the kind they could usually play off and wait until a weekday at work to actually work on, but Vegard was brimming over with pride at one of them in particular. Sure, the sun had gone down, and the stars would even soon be out, but the sun had gone out long ago given that it was November, and their average hours of sun was cut dramatically.

There was absolutely no reason to think that his brother was dead on the bathroom floor as he would soon discover, but he just continued to Bård's, planning out the delivery of just how he'd say what he was thinking. He knew this would be good, in his mind, there was no reason to think otherwise.

When he finally parked in his brother's driveway, he nearly hurried up to the front door. A light was on inside, Bård wasn't the type to leave half the lights on unless he was home – no, no wasteful expenditures into electricity for him. He caught his breath in the crisp air, in and out, freezing his lungs, ad a looming sense of dread overcame him for just a moment.

One that he easily and perhaps even foolishly pushed away, given the true circumstances. But how was he to know?

He tried the door, he tried the door a million times knocking and ringing before he gave up. He just pulled out his key chain and pulled out a key to the younger brother's house, something they both had of each other's in case of things like vacations and such. He eased it in the door but the door wasn't eve locked, and he raised an eyebrow and just put his keys back away before walking in.

“Bård, you left your front door unlocked – again – I know this is your bachelor pad but this is Oslo, not Bergen, you should be more careful.”

His voice carried deep and with gusto throughout the house, ensuring it would hit his brother's ears no matter where they were. Entirely unaware, he was.

Vegard helped himself to a beer from the fridge and walked around the lower level, looking for Bård. The dirty blonde haired kid was nowhere to be seen, and Vegard didn't find it that odd yet. The looming sense of dread soon became evident again though and he cautiously made his way up to the upper levels.

“Bård, didn't you here me? I've come for a visit – I have some things to share with you, it couldn't wait. Bård, are you there? This will be even worse if you're not and you left your door unlocked and the lights on.” He muttered aloud to himself, and he began to search the upper floor. The door to Bård's bedroom was open, and that was most suspicious, so he made a beeline for that first.

“Let me know if you're naked or something, because I'm coming in.” 

He warned in jest, heading to the bedroom. There was no way he could have done any preparation for what he was going to see that night in a mere moment – no time worked as emergency services personnel, no time worked as a doctor with thousands of terminal patients, no amount of work in the mental health field where people carved themselves up on a regular basis! 

The light to the bathroom was on, and he stayed quiet, cut the jokes, because the door was open too, and Bård had yet to say anything if he was there. But there was in that bathroom in the bedroom stains of red seeping out to the beige carpet of his bedroom floor, matted with dry blood now, even though Vegard could not see the extent of what had happened. 

His steps became quick and tiny, he still had his outdoor jacket on and his heart was pounding through his ears. He hurried and... well, when he had a better shot of the bathroom floor, he managed to look down in it and see the crumpled form of his brother's body.

Nothing could have prepared him for this. He ran a hand through his curls, took in a sharp breath of air, dropped the bottle of beer clear on the floor and he observed all of the blood. By pure sight of it alone, he knew that his brother could not still be alive.

He was missing the bigger picture – the name Vegard carved into his arm, the way he was so lifelessly slumped that it was just able to make it out perfectly. But his mind skipped over all that to lean down and cradle his brother's head, check for a pulse on his neck, and he was in his pocket next to take his phone out and call emergency services.

“I need an ambu—no, I don't, I don't, I don't really need an ambulance, he's dead, my brother is dead, please, his name is Bård Ylvisåker and he lives at...”

He tilted his head back and his eyes caught a look at the sink board, to see the picture propped against it just in what must have been his line of sight. The picture of them, and his voice caught in his throat, the emergency line worker still trying to talk to him, but he just hung up the phone, his brother's head cradled in his lap.

His brother's head, matted with dark red blood, scaling and flaking, while he just looked around the bathroom in amazement like it was the first time he had ever seen it. 

There had to be some reason Bård had been distant lately, why he had pushed Vegard away, but thinking back in the past few weeks he had been oddly calm again. Calm and collected, that was never really his brother, but it was this almost supernatural pinpoint at their work, being serious more often than not, and... could this have been prevented?

It's all what brought him to look down at the slumped out arm, this panoramic view of the bathroom, and the t-shirt his brother was in despite the cold and oh, heavens, how cold his body itself was – he just was in awe how cold and stiff he was and how he could feel I through his jeans eve though he was set in a puddle of blood and he came down to focus on Bård's arm.

The word it was spelling out was unmistakeable, even from the angle he was looking down at it from. It made him sick to his stomach, he shoved his phone back into the pocket and temporarily even felt deafened, just a temporary loss of all of his senses – touch, the cold corpse; smell, the iron in the blood; sight, the words dark red and jagged towards the end of his wrist and wavering in degrees of depth until it finally was all just a blur...

Even matted with and covered up with blood at every angle he could see it was meant to spell out his name, yet it didn't make the picture of them on the sink board make any more sense than it did when he first saw it. He heard knocking at the door, but he was too in shock and shame to get up to answer it, until he heard them opening the door themselves, announcing they were emergency services, and Vegard's voice let out a weak cry.

\- - - 

They found out that Bård had filed a will with his lawyer, an updated, to the brink most updated copy the day before actually doing the deed. Loss of blood from self inflicted lacerations was the cause of suicide, and he had planned a very well sum to go away to his daughter, and some to his parents and little brother, but the brunt of the rest – including material possessions – to go to Vegard, if their parents didn't want any particular memorabilia.

It clearly showed per-meditation for the suicide, and knowing that made Vegard sick. Knowing he'd seen the suit on the bed that was perfectly tailored to his brother and it didn't raise a red flag made him sick, but he couldn't recall if he actually saw the suit before he saw the stains of red at the carpeted floor. 

There were very strict instructions for a funeral, a small statement about mental health to be made public, and the day after the night the suicide was discovered his family moved that into action. An obituary was formed and was clipped by many, most likely, but it was headline news and after Vegard had seen that, he couldn't go into supermarkets.

But they still didn't know why – even if they knew now that Bård had been living with clinical depression. Maybe that alone was reason enough to do something as heinous as a crime as this, but Vegard felt the last choice of words was something that was like a puzzle he was meant to find out.

He never did find out.

The scene was traumatic, absolutely traumatizing, and he even sought psychological help himself – even though the first few times, the psychologist just spoke and he sat back and listened without saying a word. He learned more and more about suicide than he ever cared to have known, and when he confided it was his name itself that had killed his brother... it was a confusing statement at first, but there was some merit to just what he meant and he was listened to.

The first time he ever cried about it was months later, not even a tear was shed as they buried his brother 2 meters underground, he just was empty and drained and couldn't stand looking even at the face that looked painful yet peaceful at the same time in the suit he wanted to be buried in. It was too much. Much too much.

So his first cry came on a therapeutic session months later, when he finally allowed himself to feel the emotions behind his brother's suicide.

There would never be another Bård in his life. When he met a pretty girl and things went well, there wouldn't be his just-slightly younger brother to tell it all too. When he got married, there was no Bård to be his best man. There was no Bård to be the honorary second father of his children.

And even though he grazed through life just barely sometimes, telling anecdotes years later about Bård, showing off clips of a decade old (or more) television show, he never once thought about killing himself. 

He was proud of his brother, no matter what, it was better he never knew the depths of Bård's love, because then the depths of his own love could stay limitless. He would always love his brother, as a brother, as just a ghost by his side to be with him through every major life milestone after that. 

Even though he did not believe heavily in the afterlife, he just knew he'd see Bård again one day, and he wouldn't even bring up the haunting imagery of why it was his name.

Instead he would embrace him and welcome him home with love.


End file.
